"What else do we need to prep for tomorrow, mom?" I ask while sitting at the kitchen table. I've been chopping and prepping for over an hour. I don't mind the work. It's a change from my day-to-day routine.
Most of the family is coming over for Thanksgiving dinner, so I'm here to help. Of course my loser cousins aren't bringing anything, and if they did it would be awful. We learned that the hard way a few years back with the creamed spinach debacle. Seriously, you don't even want to know what the crunchy topping was made from.
"Take a break, sweetheart. Oh! Try my new cheesecake. I made it with your diet in mind. I watched one of those cooking videos. Shelly Cope from next door turned me on to him. You should have seen the chef. Good lord he was fine." She fans herself. "Talk about too hot to handle. Woohoo!" Geez. She looks all sweaty. And it's not from the stove. She grabs her iPad and sticks it in my face. "Look! Mmmm...If only he were into older women...the things I would do to him."
"If only you weren't married to my dad, you mean," I retort, glancing at her iPad.
Oh my god. My mother has a lady boner for Chef Edward. Gross. Wait, I mean, he's not gross. I'm referring to her lady boner. And the inappropriate comments. And all the moaning she's doing right now. And the fact that I have a giant lady boner for him too.
Ugh. Are we like wannabe cyber-Eskimo sisters? No. I can't even...
"Now that's a man," she says, sighing. "Did you see that wrist action? His long fingers?"
"He's...quite attractive," I stammer. My mother snorts.
"Your ex-boyfriend James was attractive, Bella. A complete asshole, but attractive nonetheless. This man is fuckhot. That's the sort of guy you should be dating."
"Right. It's so easy to find guys like that, mom. Let me just run out and grab one."
"You don't have to be so snippy, Bella. I was just giving you advice. Anyway, try the cheesecake. It's Chef Edward's recipe."
"Oh, really? I love him. I mean his show!" I gush. "Wait, I've never seen a recipe for lactose free cheesecake. And I think I've seen most of the episodes." Let's be real; I've seen all of them. I'm probably personally responsible for four million of his five million views per episode.
If they counted the amount of time I pause and stare, he'd have the highest viewed show on YouTube.
Of course it's because I'm very committed to the arts. And his face is a work of art. So... that's a mostly true statement. It's not that I'm desperately perving on the hot chef videos.
"I watched him, er, it very carefully," she says. "And I made this for you." She serves me a piece, and I take a bite.
"Mmmmh...This cake is so good, mom! I can't believe it doesn't have any dairy," I say between bites. I have graham cracker crumbs on my shirt, but I don't care. It's not often that I can enjoy desserts. Since finding out that I am severely lactose intolerant, I usually avoid all sweets. It just makes things easier. I never want another scene like after junior prom. Damn friends just had to convince me to get a vanilla shake. I'm pretty sure I put that limo company out of business and scarred the driver for life.
My mother mutters something about low fat cream cheese that I don't catch. "What'd you say, mom? This is lactose free, right?" I seriously don't remember a lactose-free cheesecake recipe, but I may not always pay that close of attention to the food. Especially if he's flexing his fingers or putting something in his mouth.
"Um, sure it is, Bella. I..." She looks confusedly at her iPad. "Darn. Why'd he have to be so hot?" she mutters.
"Good. You don't know the type of diarrhea that will happen if I have any dairy. And Uncle Garrett isn't coming this Thanksgiving." He's the plumber in the family. Yes, it could get that bad that we'd need his services.
"It'll be fine, Bella," my mother says. "You'll be with family. Er, come help me with the vegetables. Your dad will have a fit if there isn't a green bean casserole."
"Brrrrp. Oh excuse me. Must be too much soda," I say, tapping my chest. I continue looking for crispy onions. "Mom, do you have another can of these? This one is almost empty." I hold it up.
"Oh...your father must have gotten into them. You'll have to go get some more."
I burp again. "Sorry. I don't know what's gotten into me. Besides this wonderful lactose-free cheesecake."
My mom mutters something about hypnotizing green eyes and hot flashes make her forget things like following a recipe.
"Do you want me to find the recipe for the green beans, mom?" I ask, confused. She usually makes it without any recipe.
She sighs. "No, Bella. Just go get the onions before it's too late."
"It's only five, mom. Trader Joe's doesn't close until eight."
"Just hurry, Bella. Trust me. You need to go now before we have a major explosion."
"Geez. You're that worried about dad's casserole?"
"Um, yeah. That's what I'm worried about. Go. Now."
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"Why did I agree to go to the store the night before Thanksgiving, again? Because my loser friends didn't have enough beer? Genius move, Ed," I mutter to myself after circling the parking lot for ten minutes.
I see a car pull out on the opposite side of the street, but I'm too late. A red truck takes the spot. I'm mid curse as I watch the driver hurry across the street. All I can see is long brown hair and a perfect round ass. Now I'm twice as determined to get into that store.
I circle again and I get lucky with a space. Inside the store I look around for truck girl, but no luck. Disappointed, I get the beer and start picking up the items for the paninis.
While I'm crouched down squeezing some ciabatta, I'm assaulted by a really foul scent. Seriously, something died. "What the funk?" I mutter, looking around. A few feet away are some fantastic jean-clad legs. I glance upward and said legs are attached to that ass I saw earlier...and oh shit...it's another foul wind. And it must be coming from her. "Was that you? Jeezus..." I cough out. I hear her moan. She grabs the bread shelf. I tuck my nose into the collar of my shirt.
"No, no, no," she whispers. "I...of course not," she says a little louder.
I sway and blink but get up because I think maybe she needs help. I wave the bread around to make the foulness dissipate. It doesn't work.
"Hey. Are you okay?" I ask, turning toward her. Wow. How did that smell come out of that that gorgeous girl? I guess it's like the time I had to change my cousin's baby's diaper. I couldn't believe all that came out of such a cute human.
"It's not what you think," she says, eyes cast down. She sighs and looks up. "It's...you? Oh my god, it's you," she blurts out as she stares at me.
"That wasn't me," I say, chuckling. "But it's okay. Obviously you've got something going on here-"
"It's you. And oh no, my mom watched...and you look like that and she must have messed up somehow...and now you know. Somebody kill me."
I laugh. "You're beautiful." She really is. She doesn't make any sense right now, but she's still the only woman who's captured my interest in a long time.
Her big, brown eyes widen. I don't know if it's because I said that or she's going to let another one rip. I hope it's because she likes me. She blurts out, "Oh-my-god-I-have-to-go," turns, and basically sprints out.
Well, that was an experience. And my mom says that I should get out more and try to meet women. Wait until she hears this story.
"Dude. What the fuck?" Some guy with a cart says to me. Great. He's blaming me. I didn't get the girl, and I'm being accused of ass pollution. I exchange my bread for some that wasn't in the contamination zone and get the hell outta there.
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A/N: Thank you to all who donated to the charity. I also appreciate all the kind comments about the story. I had this mostly finished but had a computer (human) failure and deleted the end. I will post the chapters I have and try to motivate myself to finish in a timely manner.
Beta by Cosmogirl but I tinkered around with it. All mistakes are mine.